


Bianca, what the fuck?

by Elm (Xerethra)



Series: Biadore [5]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Biadore, Clubbing, Cussing, Drag Queens, Drunk Texting, Love Letters, Multiverse, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Roleplay, Roleplay Logs, Swearing, Texts From Last Night, Tumblr Roleplay, Unrequited Love, bdsm opportunities, desperate plea for a Bianca, roleplay ad, smut opportunities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerethra/pseuds/Elm
Summary: So, desperation knows no boundaries and what luck Adore’s a desperate mess of a slut and not a stranger to begging. Adore really misses her Bianca. Bring her her Willow and she’ll be forever grateful.(Written as an ad to get someone to write Bianca in our roleplaying group)EDIT 13 sep 2017: Miiiight just be that this will turn out into a collection of emails, notes and shit written by Adore pining for Bianca (still haven't one in our roleplaying group!)Edit 19 sep 2017: So, this little collection has done it's job and I've snatched me a Bianca. Thanks for reading! I'll close this work. Any new Biadore I might or might not write in the future will get it's separate work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~So. Like. Me and my Adore muse is desperate for someone to take on the muse of Bianca in the roleplaying group we're in. Adore misses her grumpy old bitch as hell and though I do have Biadore as OTP not every thread has to be tackled in that angle, and we can try out lots of lots of things since it's an open verse where every thread is it's own universe. So there's lots of opportunities to explore as well as exploring the two group verses we do have that influence each other and if written in the group verse actions affect other threads. The one's we currently have is a summer spent in P-town where the muses can put up their shows or just hang out and a Hogwarts AU one.~~
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> ~~The muses that currently exist are my muse, Adore, and we also have a Violet, Trixie and Katya. All of us are very welcoming, love to plot and thread, have ideas and handle ourselves maturely, we don't take what happens in threads personally and it's a comfortable friendly environment.~~
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> ~~The only requirement is that you have to be 18+ years old and fill out an application.~~
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> ~~xxx~~

Hey so, I’m like real pissed now, I swear to god. Sure, you’re a fucking superstar (but older and older and older, like in the 60s now right? I’m getting closer to that crown, bitch!) and busy working your ass off but like, don’t you fucking realise I’m gonna starve if you don’t show up and buy me pizza now and then?! You don’t want my death on your consciousness, B! I’m gonna fucking haunt your house and spook the shit outta you, chola style, bitch! Cunt, I’ve been watching horror movies since I was a fucked up kid, B, you should be scared as hell! Besides, I’m too fucking cool to die and you gonna miss me like hell!! 

Gimme a call, FaceTime me, or do those smoke signal things like when you were young, pop around, cuddle with me! I miss you. 

xxx

Adore


	2. Dancing on my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An email from Adore to Bianca that was never sent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so I gotta unload all my feels somewhere right, so I might just add my dribbles to my little ad for Bianca since all the feels are related to Adore missing her, yeah.

Bianca,

when I started covering _Dancing On My Own_

I had no idea that the song would fit so fucking well with the kind of life I've lived ever since our season. Back when I first began to incorporate the song in my performances I was a little innocent person that had no idea what love and heartbreak was, lest what a relationship was, or how fucking maddening it would be to want someone so bad you didn't know what to do with yourself. Well, I know now. And it's driving me nuts, Bianca, fucking completely nuts. 

It's absurd really. No, it's fucking pathetic, is what it is. I mean, it's like what? 4-5 years ago our lives consisted of the werk room, challenges and runways? I mean, any sane person would have moved the fucked on, right? They wouldn't continue to cling to a hopeless wish that their fucking person would suddenly do a complete U-turn and see them in a different light. They would have gone on, finding someone else to crush on, finding someone that would return their feelings. 

You know I tried. Everyone that follows me does. I was silly, still so young, so fucking eager to finally feel like I belonged somewhere, so fucking happy to find that I could feel those feelings wanting to be with another person for 24/7, for real real. He was my first boyfriend. I was smitten. More of the idea itself, I guess, than true soul mate love. I wouldn't say that it was bad, we're still great friends, and I had a year or so learning and experiencing. 

But like, it wasn't for nothing that I only managed to fall for someone that lives a big fucking ass ocean away. I know that I have insane commitment issues and knowing we weren't living on the same continent made it so much easier to commit, you know? We would only see each other in controlled formats, a set period of time, and we would never have the chance to slip into mundaneness, to experiencing the growing pain of a stable, in the same city relationship, with all the silly fights and growth. But even if it went months and months before each visit I was still loyal, committed against all odds, staying mono for him, pushing away my habit of picking up fans at each stop on the road, ignoring any trade meat. It wasn't difficult. I'll happily reserve my body for just the one. I hate cheaters after all, so. 

I was heartbroken when he broke up with me. With a fucking text message, like, what the fuck? I was so fucked up back when all that shit happened. Being on tour non-stop, a broken heart in all the mess, my dad's passing, the upcoming filming of All Stars stressing the fuck outta me. But I couldn't wait for it either, like, I was so fucking hungry for every opportunity to dig myself into work so I wouldn't have to feel. 

I didn't want to feel. I knew it would break me. It was too much at the same time. And you know I'm a sensitive mess, a fucking chillona, having my soul and heart shattered by every fucking little thing... My mind always on the spin, overthinking, overanalysing, never able to stop, never able to relax. And I did break down. Big time. But I've healed, grown a bit more jaded, a bit more experienced. 

I've managed to go on with my broken heart, I've come to accept my dad's death. But I haven't been able to get over you.

You know, you had me from that first time you called me over, offering to lace me up in your spare cincher. With that little act of kindness, something you probably didn't think about more than doing a good dead for the baby that always got picked at, and my world shattered at my feet and I've never really been able to find my balance again, to heal the cracks threatening to grow so big so I get swallowed up. I first tried to pass my feelings for you as being bewildered that an older, polished queen could be so fucking nice and helpful to a hopeless baby, someone that was competing against you. I mean, and I told you, that I thought you would be like all those other fucking queens that picked at me, froze me out just because I wasn't polished enough. That you were so free with your things and your help floored me. And you never stopped. You never fucking stopped. I was so fucking aware of every supporting glance from you, and I've could of broken down in tears with gratitude when you took time of your own project to help me fixing my wedding dress. Fuck, Bianca. Fuck.

And when we were finished I guess I thought that our little group would spread with the winds like groups usually does when whatever is binding them together is over. But that didn't happen, Bianca. You have always been there for me. A steady, sane, stern, mentoring, loving, sweet, gentle pilar for me to lean on. You would help me back when I was too drunk. If we both were at the same place the same time and you weren't out with me, I knew I always could call you if I needed to get picked up, needed the safety of someone I knew instead of some Uber driver. I could always call you to ask your opinion on something and it didn't matter if it was an opinion which dress I should get, what book I should pick for my long ass flight, or if I should move away from LA, what bank offered the best loans. You listened. You only gave your advice when I asked you too, you were never pushy, never nosy. And you never solved the shit for me, just gave me some tools, some thoughts to hang my own ideas on. And I freaking appreciate that. So much. It's like, even though you see me as the baby sis you recognise that I need to stand on my own feet. Not everyone does that. No matter if they're well meaning or not. They see me as some hapless child. You I guess just see me as a fumbling youth, but you recognise my independence. 

And there's like so many things Bianca, that you do that just breaks my heart because it only makes me love you more. Your stupid way of texting, always USING FUCKING CAPS LOCK WHENEVER YOU POST SOMETHING ON IG LIKE OLD PEOPLE DO. Overusing emojis. It's so fucking cute I die every time. You take me out for pizza, you open your home for me, just chilling out, letting me play with Sam and Dede. You rub my back when I throw up and you hug me close when I cry. You buy me little gifts on your trips, small nonsense things that made you think of me. Clothes that you thought I'd like, fun little souvenirs and stuff. You always let me sleep on you when we both are flying somewhere together even if it means you have to be uncomfortable. You have bagels ready every morning I wake up at your place and you always make sure I get the seating nearest a power outlet so I can load my phone or laptop. You message me random shit out of context that I have no clue what it means. You sent me pics of you having a great time travelling around the world. You bomb my phone with texts of sheer boredom whenever you have to wait for a flight. You let me gulp down that last tequila even if you know it'll be the shot that does me in. You never try to hide any drag tip for me, always willing and patience in helping me out, teaching me another way of doings things, letting me learn and grow. And even though you know fucking well that I have a small fucking bladder you always let me have the window seat even do it'll annoy the heck outta you when I have to worm myself out to get to the toilet. And you love my mom, man. And you know, man, you know, having grown up in a Hispanic family too, what my kinda life is all about, where I come from. 

And you're smart. So smart. I love listening to you discussing politics, Bianca. And I love hearing how happy you are when you've found a great sewing book in some second hand shop in whatever country you're currently in. I love to hear the excitement of you starting to have ideas and concepts. I love watching you beam with joy, seeing you flushed with laughter. And I fucking love seeing that ice queen melt and I feel so privileged as fuck getting to know that soft, loving person that you are underneath it all. I love your dimples, I love your laughs, I love how your body tightens for a few seconds before you melt into my hugs. I love when we can spend hours snuggling and watching some stupid shit on TV. I love watching you sleep. God, you're so beautiful when you sleep, Bianca. You know, I've always had a fucked up sleep ever since I was a kid, but I sleep pretty well when we share a room. Weird, huh?

But despite all this shit... here I am. Alone. Longing for you. And I've finally started to give up hope. It's been years and you've never noticed me. You never did saw my face of pure shock, trying to scramble my mind together when we got that question at the reunion, if I had a crush on you? It fucking broken my soul when you said you only give to charity once every year but I still had to goof around with you. It should have been then where I really just should have stopped myself. But you're so magnetic Bianca, you don't ever know what kind of forceful presence you have, how you bright up a room, how you charm the shit outta everyone with your wits and sharp tongue and that fucking adorable dimply smile and your fucking warmth. 

I've worn your shirts. I've gone on and said you're the perfect winner. I've had your face on my phone cases. I've gushed over you on social media. I've fucking stared at you and been all over you when we have shit together. I've grind myself on you when we hit the clubs. I've bought you drinks, taken you out to dinner, to the fucking movies. I've hold your hand, I've curled up against you in our shared Uber home after a night's out. I've played hermit at your place. I've taken you with me on shopping sprees. I've hunted furniture and houses with you. You've payed for my fucking hairline. I've kissed you. I've said I love you. I've said that I always want you in my life, I've said I don't know how to live without you. I've said I want to be with you. I've said you're the most important person in my life besides my mom. 

I've done everything Bianca. But you never see me. I should be used to it, shouldn't I? I always end up the homegirl. A cute fun friend. But I'm not partner material. And I get that. I'm not fucking blaming you. I know I'm a messy and trashy and fucked up. I have so many issues and faults and I have no control of my emotions. I'm a fucking drama queen. I crave attention. I'm needy and I'm clingy. I say I'm low maintenance and I don't require much, not when it comes to material stuff but my personality is fucking draining to have around for too long. And I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life to the fullest and the way that fulfil and satisfies you the most. 

And I'm not gonna get this shit into some 'buh I'm in the friend zone but I'm a fucking nice guy!!! ;(((('. I would never stand in your way. I'll happily be your friend. And I'm not gonna go crazy or stalky. Even though it reads like I am, doesn't it? 

But I'm cool. I know the boundaries. I just had wished for something more, you know? But you can never control feelings. They're free little spirits, going about however the wish to without caring for the person they mess with. I just need to write this shit down. Close a chapter, long overdue. It's time I start to live. Try to approach love with open, empty arms. Without that little thought that hopes you'll come around eventually, that nobody can beat you. There's a lot of fish in the ocean, though. 

And I'll stand in the corner for a while yet, watching you kiss him. I will still mourn that I'm not the one you're taking home. But soon, soon I will stop.

Soon I won't be dancing on my own anymore. 

Love always,

Adore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~So Bianca is still available for grabs at the roleplaying group if y'all are interested! See chapter one for links and info. Or seems like thee end notes from the first chapter is visible here as well so, look wherever the info is! Hah.~~


	3. Texts from a night out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A string of texts from Adore to Bianca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, somehow half of my little text story disappeared so here I'm trying again.

[To: Bianca]: bitch, about hitting the clubs in weho! 

[To: Bianca]: gonna miss all ithe fucking ass fun, cunt! 

[To: Bianca]: serves yeou right do b, being all across the fucking globe and eshit! 

To: Bianca]: party!!! 

[To: Bianca]: jack daniel's in my heart always and forever 

[To: Bianca]: so fucking ogod uto me and my belly 

[To: Bianca]: oh heeeeefeeey court says 

To: Bianca]: you asleep or something? whwat the fuecking tiem in rehwever? 

[To: Bianca]: bloody matyr. yum. 

[To: Bianca]: arrrrrrrrsssseeessese

[To: Bianca]: biaaaanca I gotta pebe but the line is osooooo loooong i gonna pee myself hflep

[To: Bianca]: ifuck it I'm gonna ago outside and pee fuck the fucking pnoe oodes nehty can fuck my yass

[To: Bianca]: i'm reniwag ka shirt eswdrs and i'm looking fat sas hot as yehll ngl

[To: Bianca]: ijt would cbe zfun beifng fucked by a cop they have these hand thingies theby mcan tie yodu uop with I mean ci've slept with a doctor so pi should tyr na qpoe poe right man?

[To: Bianca]: my aqss blooks fucking hot as fuck dude

[To: Bianca]: deid you ghet my ayss pic????

[To: Bianca]: such sa shame 'im a top cuz 'di fuck cthe mhell outta an ass like man for reals

[To: Bianca]: oops. started smoknig again crn. he ils cute thoug.h tattoos anid holes min his qjeans

[To: Bianca]: gopod enough ass. no pimples though. that makes me a sad mermaid

[To: Bianca]: eh doesn't understand I'm za mermaid like you do

[To: Bianca]: whiskey!!!

[To: Bianca]: awhy you gaint here ot hold my beloody maqry when I htave to pee acgain!???!!

[To: Bianca]: tiruth of tshe yad thaough: i'd let you fuck omy uass azny day of the week cunt lkie even if i'm otp ki'd be your ass bitch so tgood sand i'd lotve it yeah

[To: Bianca]: like bmy body???f?

[To: Bianca]: ui have jlost court and ji am all ealone

[To: Bianca]: will whas rtade gnad I do ont tknow whekre the fuck alasak kis

[To: Bianca]: rtpya! jalck!!!

[To: Bianca]: lyft

[To: Bianca]: why the fcku are you never home biganca? qi fucking masis you. fwaht thwe fuck ajre you rkunning away foorm anyways!??!

[To: Bianca]: lhike sedo it huvrt you to be around ua littlie bibt orme oor like I know it's fucking great touirng and gethting mnoney but why dgo ri miss you

[To: Bianca]: I wanna fuyck you and yobu are across the goleb somewhwere ansd you not bansewnrig gmy texdts

[To: Bianca]: antd it fucking hurts so bad. i miss yolu and i love ygou but you just fuckign ignoring me ekil always.

[To: Bianca]: im' so tirled being the cute little baby that everyone overlooks man why can't anyone like me bakc rthe way i wnat them toi???? am I that shitty, am i so fucknig messed up that not any fucking soul can see me ass their partnerg???

[To: Bianca]: ffuck you and fuck all you bitches. i don't tneed yoau anyways. fuckidng idiots

[To: Bianca]: fuck fuck efuck fuck fuck

[To: Bianca]: och. we've arrivejd at his place. kdo not worry mom!! i hrave condoms anvd enouhg battery on mdy phone aend i'll be careful mom!! break a leg for your shjow oqr something!

**Author's Note:**

> ~~If you are as hooked on BDSM as me and Violet mun you gonna have a blast when we feed you all our plot cookies! Yum! Yum! C’mon, you know you want to have Bianca own Adore completely, yeah? She misses you.~~
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> ~~Plus a ton more of everything we can imagine, there's no limits besides our own imagination and potential triggers!~~
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